His name is Dreadful
by ArtisteFish
Summary: Maybe it was chance, maybe it was destiny, maybe it was an answer to the silent calls of hearts broken and lost and lonely. It doesn't matter so much how he found them; for the Clock family, all that matters is that he never leaves. A series of drabbles and one-shot stories based around the unassumingly heroic Spiller and the family he keeps coming back to.
1. Chapter 1

His name is Dreadful

~To have a Son~

* * *

Pod had often wondered what it would be like to have a son.

He loved his little Arrietty dearly, and wouldn't trade her for the world, but to be perfectly honest, it was hard raising a daughter.

Especially being a Borrower.

If he'd had a boy, they would have started borrowing much earlier than when he started Arrietty, and maybe a son would have listened better when Pod told him not to get out of sight, or not to go outside, or never to talk to Beans….

But that hadn't happened, and no amount of 'what-ifs' would change the present.

And Pod, being the adaptable creature he was, didn't think his current situation bad enough to warrant any wishes for anything else.

He was happy to have a daughter.

Overjoyed in fact.

She was a tough girl, well-learned (the fact that she could read and write set her miles ahead of him), and had a good head on her shoulders, despite her occasional bout of irrationality which Pod supposed she got from her mother.

But still… occasionally, when Arrietty was growing up, Pod would stop and daydream about what life would have been like with a boy.

And somehow, while Arrietty was growing up, it had never crossed Pod's mind that someday a boy _could_ join the family.

There were other things to worry about when you were living under the floorboards aside from marrying off your children.

And by the time Arrietty was talking, there weren't any other Borrowers in the house anyways, and there wasn't reason to think that that would ever change in Pod's lifetime.

So Pod had come to terms with the fact that his daughter would never have a family, and he would grow old with no one but his wife and daughter to keep him company – and that was only if the Beans didn't find them first.

They were all there was of their family, and there wouldn't be any more.

But then a funny thing had happened: they were tossed out of their home, into the wild wood, with just the clothes on their backs and a few bits and bobs and little food, and Pod had found something out in those woods that he never would have thought, in his wildest dreams, to find.

He found a son.

Truthfully, Pod's first introduction to Spiller was anything but pleasant – he didn't quite know what to make of the grubby borrower-boy, and he was too busy worrying about his daughter to spend long trying to figure him out.

However it didn't take long for that first impression to change. The more he saw of Spiller, the more Pod began to realize certain things: Spiller was smart, Spiller was brave, Spiller was calm, Spiller was respectable, Spiller knew about cover and what to borrow and how to use things - Spiller was every whit what a Borrower aspired to be.

And Spiller was every whit what Pod would have hoped for in a son.

But Spiller was also hard to pin down, and could never be anticipated – you never really knew when he was going to leave, or when he'd turn up, or how long he'd stick around, or how long he'd be away.

Pod could sympathize with Arrietty every time Spiller left; he could tell she was much attached to him, and very lonely when he wasn't around, and Pod could never really comfort her right when Spiller left, because he was just as confused about the wild Borrower as she was.

Because Spiller would never just tell you anything.

The boy hated questions – everyone who knew him knew that – and yet questions surrounded him, and the very thought of him would conjure up a whole slough of them for the Clocks.

Did he like them? Did they bother him? Did he worry about them when he was away? Did he know how much they worried about him?

Did he have a longing somewhere in him to return to them after journeying?

Did he ever consider their home his?

Did he ever think of them as family?

Pod had thoughts of telling Spiller all these things; just casually, somewhere in the conversation, saying 'Spiller my boy, if it's all the same to you, why not just call yourself a Clock and join us?'

But of course he never did.

And so it surprised him to realize one day that, well, it almost _could_ be that easy; he almost could one day just decide to become a permanent member of the family, and have it bind.

And he only realized this thanks to his daughter.

It wasn't until she mentioned, high in the air aboard a homemade hot-air balloon, that she wanted to someday marry Spiller, that Pod even realized they were no longer under the floorboards and she _could_ one day marry _at all_.

And then to realize that, after all his day-dreams and night-time ponderings, he really _could_ have a _son, _and not just _a_ son but the kind he always wanted… Pod couldn't even think of words to say on the matter.

And the fact that his dearest Arrietty had made the choice herself only made him prouder of her.

She had said she wanted to tell Spiller about it all, and Pod had almost hoped she would tell him right when they got back; but circumstances being what they were, the opportunity never showed, and Pod began to fear that she had forgotten it.

And then she went and revealed her secret of having talked with Miss Menzies, creating another perilous situation for the Clock family and getting her all upset in the process, and Pod realized that at this point the right moment might never show.

So he jumped on the chance to go help Spiller with his moorings, and decided to take a risk on his daughter's (and his own) behalf.

"Spiller", he said, cautiously, as the young man checked the rope on the boat, "There's more to this 'talking with Beans' issue than I told to Arrietty. I'm not just worried about our family now, I'm worried about her future."

Spiller continued to peer closely at each nook and cranny of the boat, fiddling with things here and there, but Pod could tell he was listening.

"See, I'm afraid of what she'll be like when she's not around us anymore – when she's got her own family."

Spiller stopped his fidgeting, and Pod could see him outlined in the darkness, listening but still not looking at Pod.

"She's a hard one to keep track of, and she's got a mind of her own, but she's got a heart of gold, and those she loves, she loves very deeply."

He watched the young Borrower intently, but he could decipher nothing of what the other was thinking.

"Spiller, I've got to be frank with you, no sense keeping secrets. Arrietty was going to tell you herself, only I think she forgot. You see… well, it's like this: Arrietty reckons that when she gets older… she wants to marry you, Spiller."

Spiller did turn sharply at that, staring at Pod with a reserved face but very, _very_ intense eyes.

It caught Pod off guard.

"You understand what that means Spiller; it's a big responsibility, and I can't trust it to just anyone."

Spiller said nothing, only continued staring at Pod, the moonlight making his eyes shine.

"But you'll also see, that there's no one I'd feel safer entrusting her to, so long as you'd be willing to take the risk, and take care of her the way she needs… and deserves."

There was silence, and Pod couldn't help but grow nervous. Perhaps this was one of those times where Spiller would act unexpectedly – do something unpredictable and enigmatic, like push off in his boat and never come back.

But Pod wasn't content to leave it at that, with Spiller calling the shots of the situation. _He_ was the man of the house after all.

He just hoped he wasn't pushing it too far.

"Spiller, forgive my asking, but as her father, I demand to know: what do you feel for Arrietty? Would you want to marry her?"

Not a word was spoken for minutes, but Pod knew to wait.

He had thrown the hook in, and it was now Spiller's choice to either take it, or swim away.

And Pod was eternally grateful that he chose the former.

"I've met a lot of Borrowers – them's everywhere, if you know where to look. But I've never met one like Arrietty. Don't think they come like her."

There was silence again, but Pod waited. He knew there would be more if he waited.

"I never did hold with company before your lot." He turned towards the water, gazing out into something Pod couldn't see. "If you want to know why, then that's more than I can tell you. I don't understand it meself."

Pod waited with baited breath; Spiller either answered you straight, or in circles. They were currently on the longer path, but Pod knew that if he was patient, he'd get to the answer eventually.

Spiller continued staring out at the water as he said "While you lot were gone all those months… I felt it. Wasn't sure what it was, but I felt it – felt something. It wouldn't leave me be, and when I couldn't shake it I was right miserable. Then having you back, I felt it different, but just as strong. That hasn't happened ever, so whatever it is, I think it's something special. And Arrietty… I feel if she were to ask for a bit of moonlight, or the shine on the water, or the first rays of dawn in the morning, I'd borrow it all for her, tied up in a sack. If she wants to marry me, then that's fine - I'll start makin' ready."

He turned suddenly, staring straight at Pod with a grave look in his eyes that Pod had rarely seen.

"But you can be sure, I wouldn't let nothin' bad happen to her, not now or ever. And I won't hold neither for lettin' her keep putting herself in danger like this, talking to Beans – not when I'm responsible for her; not so long as she wants me to be."

Pod could barely contain his smile as a wave of love and appreciation rushed over him for this boy, and he found himself saying, before he could stop "Spiller, I'm very glad to know you, and I'm very proud of you. As proud as ever a Borrower could be of another," he paused, and then with conviction said "as ever a father could be of a son."

And Spiller, as usual, did something wholly unexpected.

He smiled.

Not his usual teasing grin, but a real, genuine, happy smile.

Later that same evening, as Pod had shared his concerns with Arrietty about her dangerous habit of talking to humans and Arrietty had to promise to stop despite her heartbreak, Pod had been grateful for the support of Spiller, whose steady presence ensured to Pod that the boy had meant every word he said back at the boat.

And when Spiller had made the surprisingly rash act of volunteering to talk to Miss Menzies for Arrietty, Pod suspected that the 'feeling' Spiller had talked about ran deeper in fact than the young Borrower realized.

And so they all moved on in life and moved to new homes, and Spiller and Arrietty grew up and grew closer, and they kept their promises to each other and made new ones together, and with time Pod forgot his daydreams of having sons.

He had a lovely daughter who craved the woods and adventure, and loved her family with all her heart.

And he had a son-in-law who had made that family his own.


	2. Chapter 2

His name is Dreadful

~Difficult to mother~

* * *

Homily knew from the start that she didn't like Spiller.

As soon as she had seen him (which wasn't right away because of how ridiculously dirty he was), she had already made her judgment.

Seeing another Borrower took her straight back to memories of when the house was full of them - when there were borrowers _on_ every floor, _beneath_ every floor, and behind every wall; to a time when appearances and reputations were the most important element of their community, and everyone knew where they stood.

The Overmantels were snobs, the Harpsichords put on airs, the Rainpipes were hardy, and the Clocks minded their own business; everyone had their niche. It defined you, and you lived it completely.

It was part of what made you a Borrower.

But this… this_ person _if you could call him that, had no title, no family to define him, was covered in filth, barely spoke a word and wouldn't answer your questions, and seemed to always be smirking.

He was single-handedly the most frustrating (and consequently annoying) person Homily had ever encountered.

Well, he was that _half_ the time.

The other half of the time, he was like a guardian angel sent to save their family, always swooping in at the last moment to provide and protect.

The second time they'd ever met, he had saved Arrietty from being eaten by a dog, risking himself in the process.

He'd brought them food and provisions, without which they would never have survived life in the boot.

He'd risked being _seen_ while saving them from Mild-eye.

And he did it all without blinking, never stopping to question whether he should or shouldn't, and never expecting so much as a thank you in return.

At these times, Homily insisted that she had liked Spiller from the start.

But then she would remember how he stole their half-scissor, and how he never washed and would track dirt with him wherever he went, and how he sometimes fed them field-mouse….

And she'd be right back to thinking him a very savage boy who didn't know a single ethic and wasn't_ really _a Borrower in the sense she thought he ought to be.

Her thoughts on him went back and forth like this over the years that she knew him, changing from day to day, or even minute to minute depending on the circumstances.

When he brought them to the picturesquely perfect Little Fordham, she could have kissed him.

When he took her darling Arrietty for a ride on the Bean's dangerous model train, she nearly throttled him.

Whenever he was away, she would worry if he was eating enough, if he was safe, if he was staying away from Beans, and so on.

And by the time he returned, she'd be sweeping the dirt up after him and pestering him to wash his hands before supper, even though he never did.

Despite all her grumbling, Homily really did worry about him. He didn't have the first clue about proper behavior, and it was no fault of his own, poor thing, because he had no mother to look after him.

And she would never admit it to anyone, and was hardly aware herself, that from early on she had endeavored to take on that role of 'mother' to him.

To Homily's consternation though, he was difficult to mother.

It was just as well she had never had sons.

She knew though that her little Arrietty wished she had had siblings, and was therefore very fond of Spiller.

At least… Homily had _thought_ that was why Arrietty was fond of Spiller.

Until Arrietty revealed that she liked him in a manner much deeper than that.

Homily couldn't believe it - _wouldn't_ believe it.

The silly girl actually wanted to _marry_ Spiller.

Now Homily was _sure_ she didn't like him.

She had thought Arrietty spending all that time with him was because she wanted to be _like_ him, not just be _with_ him - and to some extent, that was part of it.

And that just made it all worse, because there was no way on earth Homily wanted her daughter ending up like Spiller: a recluse who lived in the dangerous woods, who never washed and ate field-mice and crickets.

Homily had hoped that Spiller would see just how silly it was for Arrietty to like him, and let the girl know (kindly) that he was not fit to be a husband, and she'd better look somewhere else.

Of course then he had gone and gallantly (well, almost) offered himself up to be seen by and even _speak_ with Miss Menzies, because Arrietty couldn't and she had been inconsolable about it, and Homily felt her stomach drop the minute she heard herself say "He'd do it for you, dear" because she knew it was true, and that it meant he felt the same for Arrietty as she did for him.

It was a lost cause now.

She had no choice but to get over her (occasional) dislike of the young man and somehow accept him into the family.

She was determined to at least try.

There had been a time after they'd moved into the big house next to the church where Homily thought that perhaps Arrietty would change her mind: they had met Peagreen, and he was everything a young borrower girl could want, despite his bad leg.

He and Arrietty definitely bonded over books and intellectual conversations, but… even Homily could see that it wasn't the same kind of relationship she had with Spiller.

They were very good friends, but nothing more

And as nice as Peagreen was, he never seemed more than a neighbor to Homily.

He was never like a son; not like….

Homily had admitted how she felt about the boy to herself, but wasn't quite ready to share it with the world… not quite yet.

She had to keep up appearances, after all.

But she'd always make enough soup to share with Spiller (even, accidently, when he was away on a trip), and she set aside a nook in the house for him to sleep in (he refused less often than he used to), and in an act quite radical for Homily, she hugged him once as he was about to set off on an especially long trip, not even thinking or caring about the dirt he got on her apron.

And one night, settling down to bed, Homily had plucked up the courage to tell Pod that 'Maybe, someday, Spiller might make a good son-in –law. Provided he washed.'

It really wasn't long at all before 'someday' actually arrived, and Homily found herself strangely, surprisingly, alright with it.

Arrietty finally got her wish and married Spiller, right in the Bean's church, with all her cousins and her aunt and uncle and her friend Peagreen there to see and congratulate them, and Homily had tears in her eyes the whole time, and she couldn't answer herself why.

Was it because her daughter was growing up? Because she would be leaving home now? Was it because she would be living out in nature, on a boat or in a boot or a kettle or who knew what else?

There was a little bit of that.

But there were other reasons… like how happy Arrietty looked, and how surprisingly happy Spiller looked, and how right it felt to have him join the family.

'Dreadful' really was a fitting name for him - he was dreadfully awful and at the same time the most dreadfully wonderful boy she knew.

Homily wondered if this was how mothers usually felt about their sons.

And as Homily watched Arrietty climb into Spiller's boat, the two of them setting off for a new life and new adventures, she had to hold back tears, realizing now that she had _two_ children leaving home.

"Now you both be extra careful – Don't go on any dangerous parts of the stream, steer clear of wasps, and leave the frogs alone Arrietty - you never know what kind of diseases they've got, nasty things."

"Oh Mother, we'll be fine! Really!"

Spiller, climbing back onto shore to grab the last bag, stopped to look at Homily and say simply "I'll look after her."

Homily looked back at him with heavy eyes, and in soft voice that she usually didn't use with Spiller, said "I know you will. But I want you to look after yourself as well. I'll be worried sick about the _both_ of you until you're home again."

He smiled, and it was a very warm smile. "I will… Mum."

And with a smirk he shouldered the last bag and hopped aboard the knife-box, punting it out into the current with the knitting needle as Arrietty waved and called goodbye to her parents on the shore.

And as her daughter and son drifted out of sight, and Pod wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders, Homily allowed herself to break down and cry.

Perhaps she still couldn't tell it out loud, but she knew and could admit it to herself that she really did love Spiller.


End file.
